A/N: I know, it's been 8 months, I hit the biggest fucking wall when writing, so I'd sort of died half way through. Sherlock season 3 came out (OH MY GOD THE SHERLOLLY AND THE JOHNLOCK AND THE MYSTRADE AND THE ANDERLOCK AND ALL THE SHIPS! {EXCEPT MORMOR}) and I had the best idea, then that sort of died. But I got several very angry messages which certainly sped up my writing. If you do ever come up with suggestions, please, do tell me

Disclaimer: I own nothing

243 Shades of Lipstick Chapter 6

Mary was running, faster than she ever had in her life. The heel of her stiletto had snapped, so she threw off her shoes and hitched up her evening gown even higher, breaking into a dead sprint, her chest was heaving, jet black curls escaping her elegant chignon bun, streaking through the lit-up, glittering streets of London at night. She kept to main roads, knowing things would turn out very badly if she were to go into an alleyway. Her feet were now blistering, pantyhose torn in about 7 different places, blurs of faces turned to look at her, she knew she was an odd sight, a girl running in a priceless (well… she was living off a teacher's pay) Givenchy dress, no shoes, running. Running from whom exactly? Well, it was a long story. They'd tracked down the credit card, the next payment was for a performance at The Royal Ballet, Carmen, one of her favourites. They were fully aware that it was most likely a trap, but she and John went anyway, hoping to find something. They had, just something they weren't expecting.

Lord Moran.

So that was how she was split from John, he went one way, she another, Mycroft no doubt, had the security cameras under deep scrutiny. She was nearly there, nearly at St Barts, where she knew Molly would be doing a late night shift. No one, not even Moriarty had the nerve to go in there. Or so she deduced, Sherlock could barely walk through the halls without shuddering, so, she was sure she would have some safety. Sherlock was informed, obviously, if the buzzing in her clutch was anything to go by. 2 streets down, turn the corner, one street down, two more buildings… one more building…

A pain surged through her neck, she laughed, having expected it. The dart landed at such an angle in her neck, she knew where it had come from. Dizzy now, feeling the need to throw up, she pulled her pistol out of her clutch

Bang

He was dead, and she was now sure, so was she.

Mary's eyes fluttered, now aware of the sterile environment around her, through her bleariness she could just make out a couple of figures, a table stacked with something and the ever-continuing beeping.

"Oh thank god" someone hissed. Mary sat up, her body aching all over, pushing herself against the pillows, finding herself aided, she pushed whoever it was away, determined to do it on her own. She had to do it on her own. Why was it so white, was she dead?

"Oh, you're awake, about time. I had to call your work an inform them you were unfortunately shot with a dart in the neck. Bit of an issue with Lestrade telling him you shot a man in the chest. He survived the shot, unfortunately, stayed alive long enough to be interrogated. Your tedious students have sent you cards, John's gobbled his way through your chocolates"

"Have not" John protested, she thought so anyway. Her vision was coming back now, much clearer. She was more aware of her surroundings. A worried John sitting in the chair beside her, Sherlock occupying the sofa with a Molly on her lunch break, Mrs Hudson hovering in the door way, waving and smiling.

"And the card has been terminated, so once again, we have no lead" Sherlock finished, frustrated.

"How long have I been out?" Mary asked, rubbing her lips, noting she was devoid of any lipstick.

"A few days." Molly replied from her spot on the sofa. "You were poisoned with hemlock"

"How poetic" Mary said scathingly. Her vision was going in and out a bit, she was feeling a bit dizzy, maybe because she had been out for a bit, but also because she knew very well, as did Sherlock, she should've been dead. She could not emphasise that enough. "Really, am I dead? I should be"

"No, you managed to get most of the toxin out before it was injected. There seemed to be a bit of a delay in the release of the poison, the structure of the dart suggests that it were meant to be a syringe-like object" Sherlock handed her the black dart that landed in her neck. "Still, the concentration was enough to knock you into comatose. The lack of lipstick would be because you were having allergic reactions due to irritation. You threw up on a couple of occasions-"

"Don't worry, you looked lovely while doing so" John insisted with a smile. Mary rolled her eyes, finding a stack of papers that needed marking beside her table. "Anyway, most of the poison was removed, but effects, well…"

"I've also taken the liberty of marking the rest of the papers." Sherlock added with a smug grin "They were so dull, how you could teach them I honestly don't know"

"Sherly, leave the kids out of this" Mary sighed, reaching for the pitcher of water. John beat her to it, pouring her a cup of water. Her thirst was unimaginable, her mouth felt dry, not to mention the general feeling of emptiness. "So, what are we going to do about Moriarty?"

"No more deaths. And he left us, well… you more specifically a message" Sherlock handed her his phone, open to a photograph, a sharp intake of breath caught in her throat as she looked at it.

"No."

It had been 5 days since she had been discharged. She was coping well so far, she'd left all her heels at home, she was still a bit wobbly. Some days she'd just lie in her bed or on the sofa, marking school work, sending work for her students to complete. John would sometimes take her out for dinner. Sherlock would hand her a pile of chips that he'd bought from a fish and chips shop.

"Ah, Molly" Sherlock noted "You're early"

"Yeah, traffic wasn't as bad as I thought" Molly kissed Sherlock on the cheek, taking a seat next to him. "You two really do wear the same clothing" Mary looked down at her white shirt, then at Sherlock's own

"Yes, I suppose we do" Mary replied "Sherlock, your parents called, asked how I was." Mary placed her phone down on the table. "And the apartment above mine started leaking, so that postpones a lot of the work. Honestly, how hard is it to contain your children!?"

"I wouldn't know, given our childhood" Sherlock replied

"Touche, Violin and dance lessons" Mary reminisced. "Long before we realised how stupid the rest of humanity was."

"Oh, you really are like him, aren't you?" John commented scathingly

"No, you don't understand, do you?" Mary asked "Sherlock's an aspie. Always has been. Mental health disorders is a stigma in this society. Mycroft was just generally antisocial, and my parents hardly let me out of the house. With the three of us, or in mine and Sherlock's case, the two of us, we barely knew anyone else. We were the only comparisons"

"What were your parents like?" Molly half-laughed

"Ordinary" John, Sherlock and Mary replied. Though, in very different ways. John chuckled, Sherlock snorted derisively, and Mary laughed slightly, wishing that her parents were like that.

"I'd always wished I had your parents" Mary told Sherlock

"And I, yours"

"You'd have to deal with my brothers"

"Mycroft and my other brother" Sherlock summarised. "I'd always wondered how my parents managed to bring us up..."

"No seriously, fair point, they're as ordinary as they get" John informed Molly "God, we sound like elitists"

"Oh yeah. Welcome to our world" Mary said grimly "Sherlock turns his coat collar up like his mummy does, by the way" Mary added to Molly, who giggled slightly

"Do not" Sherlock scoffed

"Do too" Mary replied "Anyway, has Lestrade gotten back on the card?" Mary took her phone out, searching through her photographic scans of the theatre "Also, how many people in that theatre? The number doesn't feel right. How are the other cases going? What about the nanny in Winchester?"

"She sent me this." Sherlock's eyes flicked to the laptop, Mary opened it and found a photo taken obviously while looking from a window, using the camera facing the user, there was a blurred figure in the background. "Why?"

"What was the address? I'm bored. I won't allow Moriarty to scare me" Mary asked, moving to him

"It's an estate, the Copper Beeches"

"She needs to get out of there" Mary replied, clipped "Violet Hunter, you've seen her resume, haven't you?" Mary threw the file at John and Molly "Notice her hair. Now, pay attention. She works for Jeffery Rustcastle"

"Isn't he the CEO of some IT company? Huge, they've been drafted into major places" John asked.

"The very same. Now, Rustcastle's been married twice. Once to a supermodel, the next to some younger thing. Anyway, a few years back, his first wife died, just after divorcing him, murdered by hounds on the estate. A few weeks later, his daughter, Alison Rustcastle, is diagnosed with Leukaemia, goes under Chemo and everything. She hasn't been seen publicly since... But she's not dead. It never says anywhere she's dead. Have you seen what Alison looks like?" Mary opened something on her phone, showing it to them "Now, look back at Violet" Mary looked at Sherlock, who started to form an 'o' with his mouth. He pulled out a book from his shelf, inside, a newspaper clipping.

"It was a case, a few years ago. It was never solved. Yes, hounds killed her, but it didn't make sense" Sherlock explained "Rustcastle's been having her pose as Alison. But why? Go to all that effort, find a Nanny that looks like your daughter, cut off her hair, dress her in her old clothes"

"Those clothes aren't very modest, though. You'd wear them out on a date" Molly pointed out "That dress is from Topshop. I used to see it on the mannequin every day, on the way to work"

"Very old then. Why are we putting someone who's undergone Chemo, lost hair, re-grown it and been 'released' into the world, in an old-fashioned dress?" Mary asked "And all Rustcastle asks her to do is every now and again to sit in front of that window, facing the back?"

"Yes" Sherlock replied

"Now, here is where things get more interesting. Violet is the same age as Alison was, when she succumbed to cancer. Violet's certainly skinnier and from the back, you'd think she was sick. Violet said they couldn't go to the east wing? Yeah?"

"Well, she's certainly determined to get to the bottom of this, your client" Molly said "How long has she been suspicious for?"

"Since Westaways drafted her. Most of their nannies have had some education in childcare. Our Violet, here, is a criminology undergraduate. Practically deduced Rustcastle the moment he set foot in her presence" Sherlock beamed, proud of his 'charge'. "She sense there was something wrong with being offered 10 000 pounds a year for 4 years, just to do that. Obviously hush money"

"He doesn't want anyone else to find out" Mary started, however, Sherlock's phone began to buzz in his pocket, answering it, his face blanched, eyes began to dart around the room. He spoke in a hurried and hushed voice, Mary had never seen her cousin look so anxious. The fall really had changed him, hadn't it? Even if it was fake, he seemed much more human, now. Sherlock ended the call with a violent screen-press.

"How fast can we get to Winchester?" Sherlock asked her. Mary held up her car keys

"If you drive, Mycroft might have to arrest us"

"You really shouldn't be doing this" John told her, as she sat in the back of the car, Sherlock furiously driving, refusing to let anyone sit in the front with him. He claimed that he needed to think, undistracted. In reality, Mary was sure Sherlock didn't want to be seen looking so vulnerable. "I mean, you can barely walk"

"It's different when there's a case. You've got a limp and a hand-tremor." Mary pointed out "Vanished when you were with Sherlock"

"He really thinks highly of her, doesn't he?" Molly asked them. John was sandwiched to one side, Molly to her other.

"She snuck a photo, videoed the layout of the house, snuck into the East wing to get a look, lied her way out of it, and still manages to stay sane. As far as we're concerned, she's the first client he's ever had with some sense" Mary noted "If we get Violet out of this, I think we'll have a very talented Detective in the makings. He thinks highly of you too" she said to Molly gently

"No, he just says those sort of things" Mary caught Sherlock's eye in the dashboard mirror.

"He really does. He'd insult you otherwise. Haven't you noticed? Whenever he's talking to you, he refers to humanity as 'them' or 'they'. If he thought you were ordinary he'd include you. By not including you, he's complimenting you. He trusts you so much, and you don't see it. He doesn't take just anyone to solve crimes with him." Molly looked away disbelievingly. She made eye-contact with Sherlock again, he confirmed her thoughts. She'd finally met someone with just as bead self-esteem as her cousin. "Really, Molly. Stop doubting yourself"

"Mm" Molly smiled, Mary wasn't sure whether she was agreeing or just humouring her. Fact remained, Sherlock was a dick to her sometimes, even though he was absolutely smitten, but then again, this was Sherlock she was talking about.

"FUCK!" John screamed, Mary had pulled Molly down instinctively, and Sherlock had swerved off the road, as shattered glass pelted them, their car tumbling down the side of a hill.

Mary, you have a mind palace, don't you?

Mary turned around, she supposed her palace was always warmer than Sherlock's. Sunlight poured in, pillows soft, it was hipster paradise; fairy lights, blanket forts, antique rooms.

She wouldn't call it a mind palace, more like a mind-bedroom. She sprinted her way past the unmarked papers, past Moriarty chained against a bed with his suit dishevelled, past John at the café they'd eaten at, past Molly and her corpse, and Sherlock playing his music.

She was there, in the classroom, her classroom from secondary school, Mrs Da Silva standing at the front, and she was sitting in her usual spot in the middle of the room.

"Mary, Newton's first law?"

"An object will remain at rest or continue travelling at a constant speed until stopped by a direct force." Mary recited

"And the third law?"

"Every action has a complete and opposite reaction."

"Scenario, Four people are tumbling down a hill in an Aston Martin. They are all wearing seat belts. What will happen?"

"Inertia will not occur, they're all wearing seat belts" Mary said quickly, hoping she was right "They will all travel at the same rate as the car"

"Will they be stopped"

"Only when they reach the- fuck!"

"Language"

"What will happen?"

"John, Molly and I will be fine. Sherlock's side of the car will most likely-"

"Hit the tree"

"Unless-"

"You move your weight"

"John!" Mary shouted, taking Molly by the arms and pushing towards John's side of the car, trying to shift the car's centre of gravity. It had worked to some extent, as they were no longer rolling, but sliding backwards, they'd stopped, the car slamming into the side of a tree, thankfully, hitting the bonnet, however, Sherlock was still unresponsive. They scrambled to get out, Mary was out first, pulling Sherlock out, then John, and then Molly. Molly seemed alright, responding to her, however she would be unable to help. John was knocked out pretty badly, after hitting his head on the side of the car, however, he was breathing normally, so she placed him on his side to recover.

"Now what! Sherlock's still going to die!" Mary screamed, thing shifted, it was Physical Education, however, instead of Mrs Williams, it was John. "John?"

"You know first aid, don't you?"

"No, I don't!"

"You have a mind-palace"

"But I'm not Sherlock! I don't file everything!"

"First thing, common sense, check for danger" The classroom vanished and she was watching herself at the crash site. Mary was moving branches and debris out of the way.

"Molly! Call for an ambulance!" Mary shouted at Molly, who was in shock. Molly whipped out her phone, dialling.

"Now, what do you do? They're unconscious, but you need to make sure…"

"Sherlock! Sherlock, can you hear me? Open your eyes" Mary was shaking his shoulders, trying to wake him

"No, don't do that! He may have a spinal injury"

"And you know this?"

"I'm a doctor!"

"In my head. I mean, last night I was dream-fucking you!" Mary shouted at dream!John. "Okay, okay, tilt head back and check airways"

"They're clear, but not breathing" John stated, as Mary checked Sherlock for any breaths. "Now, what's the ration?"

"30 compressions: 2 breaths" Mary watched herself give CPR until Sherlock started coughing.

"Oh thank god" Mary sat back, head in her hands. "I hate you"

"It's fine" Sherlock brushed off

"NO IT'S NOT FINE, YOU JUST KILLED MY CAR!" Mary shouted, pointing to the twisted wreckage. "Anyway, how far are we from Winchester?"

"Not far" Sherlock said reasonably. John had started coming round, Mary moved away from him, pushing past.

"Oh god" Mary pulled John into a tight embrace

"Alright, alright, calm down. I just came around…" John patted her back.

"Don't you dare do that on me again" Mary muttered, before another bullet shot was fired. "Who is that?"

"I'll bet Rustcastle" Molly said quietly "We should go"

"You owe me a car" Mary muttered under her breath, before she heard another shot. "At this rate, how fast can we get to Winchester?"

"An hour, if we hurry" Sherlock stated, pulling Molly's hand "Can you run? Molly?"

"Yeah"

"Don't you dare use her as bait, Sherlock Holmes"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Sherlock turned, before running. Mary gave John a quick peck on the cheek before they too, ran off as quick as they heard more shots ring in the distance.

OOOOOOOH, cliffhanger! I'll try and update quicker, I sort of know how I want the next chapter to go, but I've got all these exams (for the first time, i might pass math) to get through, so, sorry :( Really sorry about lack of update.

Anyway, your reviews are very appreciated. If you already don't follow me on Tumblr, I only need 33 more until I reach 3k (I'm consulting-timelord-of-mischief). Also, I'f you're a Doctor Who fan and into the hunger games, my friend and I are writing a fic together called: Who Plays These Games. It's on her profile (FactionlessTribute)